


mother, Mother

by fourcardflush



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Crack, Dubious Consent, Family Feels, Gen, Hux Has Issues, Hux Has No Chill, Kylo Ren Has Issues, M/M, Other, Romance, Slow Burn, Weird family dynamics, but somehow still kind of serious, copious use of alcohol, hux vs. the sun, inappropriate use of slave leia fetishes, lies upon lies, rate e for emo angst, robot sass, space whores
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-26
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-05-29 04:12:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6358852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourcardflush/pseuds/fourcardflush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Parent Day, one of the most beloved holidays for First Order troops and Republic scum alike. An inadvertent lie from Hux about his true parentage forces him to spent time planet side, in a decadent resort, where the wretched sun will surely touch his skin. Kylo Ren is sent on an important mission and is forced to improvise because he is too handsome for his own good. Many idiotic shenanigans occur. Neither of our two heroes' mothers deserve any of this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hux Has No Time For Palaticking

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nilahxapiel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nilahxapiel/gifts).



> Hux has been compared to a machine in so many works by this point that I basically thought "Haha what if Hux's mom was a droid," and then I remembered that his father canonically owned a feminine droid, and then this happened. What can I say, Gleeson's characters have a thing for robots.
> 
> Edit: Apparently this is canon! Thank you, Pablo Hildago, for inadvertently backing my wild theory up!

Hux had always thought of his upbringing as unorthodox in some respects, but overall one which was luckier than most.

 

Of course, a more nuanced analysis was necessary whenever human were involved in the narrative, and Hux knew that he was no exception. His biological mother had been a diplomat of the Empire, and Hux was sure there might have been many useful things she could have taught him. But the “mother” who had raised him had been an excellent instructor, in her own right. Or as much as a DDM unit could be, anyway. Still, she was a first class droid, capable of higher thought (or so they say) and DeeDee had always tried her hardest to give Hux the most optimal, logical parenting she was able to.

 

He could think in such categorized, straight lines because of it- so neat that he had once overheard Kylo Ren grumbling about it’s inhumanness. Thoughts as ordered as any stormtrooper’s, though with more finesse and intellect, of course.

 

Despite his pride in his upbringing, Hux knew better than to make it common knowledge. There were already some particularly strong rumors about him secretly being a machine, and this would certainly add fuel to the fire. But more than that, he knew that some of his fellow officers might pity him, their minds too muddled with sentiment and emotion to understand.

 

Which is why he was so thrown off kilter by his own stupid, childish mistake.

 

Parent Day was nothing more than a cultural adage from the times of the Old Republic that the Empire had appropriated. Perhaps because there was a great increase in the spending of credits during this holiday, much as there was during Life Day and Love Day.

 

Almost all of the personnel on the Finalizer were stormtroopers, thank the Maker, so Parent Day wasn’t causing the amount of unnecessary hubbub it might have. Still, the higher officers were in lifted spirits in looking forward to shore leave in order to spend time with family they so rarely got to see. And their happiness, in turn, was making them sloppy. Hux hated them for it. He hated this wretched holiday.

 

What was worse then the change in mood was the insistence to prattle on about their plans with family during their downtime, and their off shifts, and during their meal shifts like now, when all Hux was trying to do was sit down and eat in peace

 

“-and she said in her last holo she was going to make me thettle-scotch cookies, so now I’m looking forward to it even more, granted my pig little brother doesn’t get to them all first,” Lt. Mitaka was saying to his companion from a couple of seats over. Hux would have preferred to sit at his own table, honestly, but his father had bred basic manners into him so he endured and nodded along.

 

“...I know what you mean,” put in Thanisson. “My twin sister, she-”

 

Hux was adept at filtering useless and stupid sounds out of his conscious hearing (he couldn’t imagine being able to work with Ren otherwise), and if this was how his entire meal was going to go he’d much prefer to focus on his food while nodding at set timed intervals to keep up appearances. Just his luck that it was stew and sandwich day.

 

“[..]” “- general?”

 

He supposed this sandwich was all right. The stew, unfortunately-

 

“General?”

 

-did they really expect him to believe there was actual meat in this? He could put up with synthetic protein, but why the packaging insisted on trying to fool him-

 

“General!”

 

Hux looked up mid-chew to find five pairs of eyes staring at him. “Hm?” He said, unable to reply with anything else at the moment.

 

“We were asking if you had any plans for Parent Day,” said Mitaka, not unkindly.

 

Hux dabbed his mouth delicately with a napkin. “Well my father, as you may know, passed several years ago. I believe his funeral was recorded for the news holovids.” Hux himself had attended- of course- his dress uniform heavy with metals. A good half of the attendees had been part of a club his father had commandeered, the Commandant’s Cadets, each wearing the exact same look of superiority. None of them had approached Hux. Logical reasoning indicated that it was because of jealousy.

 

“Oh, that’s right.” Mitaka looked rather cowed. “Buried on Arkanis, right? I remember that from the segment. Big deal, recapturing it.”

 

“Correct.” Considering the fauna inhabiting Arkanis, Hux would be surprised if his father’s body had lasted an hour before being dug up and consumed by some beast or carrion vermin.

 

“Is that where your mother is now?”

 

“Yes,” said Hux unthinkingly, an image of a powered off DeeDee slumped in his father’s old office rising unbidden in his mind. “Er, I mean-”

 

But it was too late- Mitaka was over eager to steer the conversation in a less awkward direction. “So you’ll be visiting her on your leave, then?”

 

Hux thought quickly. “Not on Arkanis,” he replied, deciding that if he was going to pretend to visit his dead mother it bloody well wasn’t going to be on that gloomy hellscape of a terrain. He did a rapid calculation of distance with nearby inhabited planets. “Coronata.”

 

Umano let out a low whistle. Coronata was a well-known resort planet. Hux didn’t even know why he’d chosen that one, in retrospect. He hated having a sun beat down on his delicate skin. Hopefully he’d be able to darken his hotel room sufficiently to focus on his work.

 

“...I can’t imagine she’s there for business?” Umano was smart enough to discard the assumption that Hux’s mother lived there, as only swindlers and pleasure slaves were known to.

 

“No, no, I thought I’d treat her-” what the hell was he saying? “-Arkanis doesn’t have much sun, and I know she’s fond of warmer places.” There were soft ‘awww’ sounds from his younger officers. Hux’s heart pounded in his ears. Well, it didn’t matter. He could say whatever he wanted, technically. There was no rule in the officer’s handbook about lying over pointless frivolity.

 

“...Did I hear you say Coronata?” Asked a silky voice behind him. A part of Hux’s brain began to scream internally.

 

Colonel Takshi was incredibly competent in her work, and an excellent crew member to have. She was also older than Hux, and therein lies the problem- in a system where seniority was an assumed pillar of officer ranks, Hux’s promotion had causes a considerable crack in its foundation.

 

“I will be visiting there as well, General,” she continued with a thin smile, sliding her tray onto the spot next to Hux.

 

“Oh?” Asked Hux, trying his hardest not to be terse.

 

“Yes, my family owns a small chain of resorts there. Perhaps you’ve heard of The Flare?” The Flare was one of the most exorbitant, high-class chains of hotels on the planet.

 

“Oh.” Replied Hux.

 

“I would be happy to comp a room for you and your mother. I’m sure I’d _love_ to have the pleasure of meeting the woman who raised such a brilliant and _successful_ son. I have _so_ many questions for her.” Her eyes seemed sharper than usual.

 

“Ah.” When one was in danger of taking this much of a casualty in battle, it was best to retreat. He stood up suddenly enough to almost knock his chair over.

 

“I’ll let you know.” He said stiffly. “I am sure she will thank you, Colonel, for your generosity.”

 

He promised himself he wouldn’t begin to start screaming out loud until he was in the safety of his own quarters. It ended up being a close call.

 

\--

 

It was 0500 hours before Hux’s shuttle was due to take him away from his ship, and he still didn’t know what the fuck he was going to do.

 

He supposed his panic was in part due to the fact that he so rarely came across a problem that could get the better of him. And he attributed that to the fact that he made a point to have as little substantial human interaction as possible. A practice, he now supposed, which had been a wise decision after all. Look at what one short, personal conversation had done to him! He was a few precious hours away from being completely ruined.

 

He had considered simply hiring an actor to accompany him, but he realized that this was unwise for several reasons. The first was that Takshi was incredibly adept at smelling weakness, and would drill the poor woman until she broke. The second was that Diplomat Pella Hux’s records indicated that she had red hair, a trait which was unfortunately incredibly rare, and it was unlikely that Hux could find someone suitable in such a short time window.

 

Hux paused his agitated pacing.

 

Maybe he could stage a ship crash. It would look a little too convenient, and Hux cringed at the idea of wasting funds on a funeral for someone who had been dead for some thirty-odd years, but desperation was the mother of necessity.

 

He crossed his quarters to enter the ‘fresher and tried out his “devastated” face in the mirror. Needed some work. But he could easily go expressionless and pass it off as numb shock.

 

“Alright,” he muttered breathlessly to himself, fingers trembling with adrenaline. He was really doing this. Well, battles were sometimes won with split-second decisions, even if long term strategic planning was clearly superior. He punched the line number into his holopad before he had the chance to overthink it.

 

“General.” A cool voice answered after an infuriating number of rings. Bala-Tik was in the habit of being just disrespectful enough to put Hux on edge without crossing the line. He supposed it stemmed from the outlaw’s natural disdain for authority. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 

“I need you to stage a ship crash,” said Hux, speaking too rapidly. “Domestic. Needs to look like an accident. One female body on board.”

 

“I’ll run the numbers on the cost.” That scum would try and figure how many credits he could leach out of the Order’s banking reserve, most like. “When would you like this to occur?”

 

“Two hours from now.”

 

There was a significant pause. “...I’m afraid that’s not possible.”

 

“I assure you, I am willing to pay-”

 

“No,” Bala-Tik said begrudgingly, obviously sour on what was sure to be a lucrative deal. “Everyone’s tied up at the moment. Synthoanthromorphization processes, you know, the Guavian Death Gang is pretty keen on any cybernetic-”

 

“Explain.” Barked Hux, chest suddenly feeling a bit tight. Because it sounded like-

 

“It’s eh, you know, makin’ droids look human with synthetic flesh coverings. We send them in first and sentients are usually less keen on shooting other sentients right away. Although I think it’s a load of bantha fodder, since-”

 

But Hux could barely hear him anymore.

 

He knew what stupid thing he was going to do next.

 

\--

 

If one could only describe Arkanis with one word, it would be “wet,” followed closely by “cold,” and “miserable.” Hux could handle a chill in the air, having been raised in space for most of his life, but he absolutely despised the persistent damp that seeped into everything.

 

Pala-Tik (Bala-Tik's less savory younger brother) was there as well with the necessary equipment, grumbling all the while. Well, if he was trying to wrangle more credits out of the deal, it was a weak ploy. Hux knew damn well that Pala-Tik came from outer-rim planet UK, which if anything had even more abysmal weather.

 

The original Academy was in shoddy shape, but Brendol Hux’s officer quarters were in surprisingly good repair, as though his disdain for sloppiness was warding off disarray from beyond the grave.

 

DeeDee was still slumped against the corner of his father’s spacious office, right where she had been left sixteen years ago. Hux’s brow softened at the sight of her smooth, black face plating and large, round photoreceptors. She looked as much of a lovable, maternal metal insect as ever.

 

“Are we really goin’ tah waste all this technology on this bucket of rust?!” burst out Pala-Tik, giving her side a well placed kick which rattled the insides. Hux scolded at him, having been violently yanked out of his nostalgic memory of playing algorithm games with her as a child.

 

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said cooly. “Look at her. She’s much too...un-human shaped. That’s why I ordered the ANDr-016 model to be brought a along.”

 

“Then why dih we even come here,” he whined. If this was how the rogue usually acted, Hux was surprised he had only lost a leg. If anyone tried to give that much sass on a First Order ship they’d be little more than a headless torso by the end of the cycle.

 

Hux knelt before his childhood caretaker and delicately opened her siding, tinkering carefully about until he found what he was looking for.

 

“Because of this,” he explained patiently, holding up a handful of technochips. “These are her personality and data. You couldn’t back it up on the holonet like you can now.”

 

“Will they be compatible? This is a brand new model.”

 

“I don’t see why not. It’s not like we’ve had that much technological innovation in the last fifty years.”

 

Still, he hovered nervously over Tik’s shoulder is he inserted the chips into their proper ports.

 

“Just need to boot ‘er up now,” he grunted, slamming her head shut. The ANDr-016 made a whirring noise and its photoreceptors lit up.

 

“Activation code?” It said it in a toneless metallic voice.

 

Tik rattled out a string of numbers. Its lights flicker and it let out a rapid clicking noise.

 

“Accessing and backing up initial data.”

 

Hux felt a nervous flutter begin to stir in his stomach as he waited. It had been years since he had interacted with her, after all. He wondered what she would say. Some comparison with his father most like, since she was technically his property, and not Hux’s, but-”

 

“Niles. You are slouching.” Snapped a more feminine sounding voice.

 

Hux startled into a straighter posture at once, so used to obeying that tone. And then the implication of it caught up to him. His head whipped downward. DeeDee boredly stared up at him from the floor.

 

Hux, cleared his throat, unused to being at a loss for words. “I am not.” He replied as calmly as he was able. It was true- he had been standing tall already.

 

She tilted her head. “You are older than usual,” she remarked, ignoring his protest.

 

“Yes. It’s been sixteen years since you’ve last been powered on,” his voice caught at that last word, which was ridiculous. He hadn’t cried in decades, and wasn’t about to break such a successful streak now. “You can connect to the holonet now. Access the calendar, if you like.”

 

“So I can.” She paused, looking rather confused for a being with an expressionless head. “I have been transferred to a new model. Explain this reasoning.”

 

“I can tell you all about that later,” Hux said hastily, suddenly feeling a twinge of guilt. “Why don’t you try your new limbs out for er- locomotive troubleshooting?” He didn’t like explaining things to DeeDee, because she had mastered recognition of all the tells humans indicated when lying. Or uncomfortable. Or upset. She always feigned ignorance in recognizing annoyance, however, no matter how many times Brendol attempted to program it into her.

 

Her new model was very human-shaped, although she stood up a little too quickly for it to look completely natural. Technically -technically- it was the latest innovation from Prostitech Industries, but he wasn’t about to explain to the closest thing he had to a mother that he had turned her into a sexbot. Hopefully, she would not be curious enough to research it herself.

 

“Niles,” she said, flexing her new leg out in front of her in the back in a perpetual kicking motion. “My internal sensors indicate a hollow cavity in my lower abdominal region. Am I missing a part?”

 

Pala-Tik let out a high-pitch giggle from where he was working on setting up the syntho chamber. “Ay, you’re missing a part alright-”

 

“You be quiet.” Hux with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. He turned back to his droid in time to witness her slamming her fist against the desk hard enough to leave a dent.Good to know her newfound freedom of movement wasn’t going to her head.

 

“So you find yourself satisfactory then,” he said dryly.

 

“It is indeed satisfactory,” she assented, flexing her fingers.

 

“Right.” He turned back to Tik. “Is it ready?”

 

“Just about. Yeh just need to punch in the details,” he said, fiddling with the controls.

 

“Is there any other area where your services are required?”

 

“Shouldn’t be, I mean, you just stick her in there and wait for her to pop back out.”

 

“Excellent,” said Hux, and shot him in the back of the head.

 

DeeDee came up behind him. “That scum is going to stain the carpeting.”

 

“Never mind,” said Hux with a wave of his hand. “He was a loose end. And we’ll be leaving soon anyhow.”

 

The syntho device itself resembled an ancient sarcophagus with a lot more wiring. It was fairly obvious where the droid was supposed to go. The controls stuck out of the front.

 

Hux only ever one received one holo of his biological mother, and that was her on her wedding day. He had thought she looked regal, proudly standing next to her soon to be husband, decked in the latest fashion of the time. Her hair was redder than his, a true red, but she shared his green eyes. Her lips had been curled in half a sneer, despite the joyous occasion- he supposed that he inherited that from her as well.

 

“Go stand in there,” he ordered DeeDee as he plugged the drive with this holo into the system.

 

When she didn’t move he turned to look at her. She stared back at him.

 

“Please,” he added hastily.

 

She bent her head and stepped into the chamber.

 

“Right,” said Hux, closing it behind her. “See you again in an hour.”

 

Hux used his time efficiently to write a tragic report to the Guavian Death Gang on how one of their most esteemed members had perished at the hands of resistance fighters. They would have no choice but to believe it, he decided, considering that he graciously let them do what they pleased in First Order airspace.

 

\--

 

The process of synthoanthropomorphation looked to be concerning, at least from where Hux stood. The chamber shuttered. It shook. It whirred. It screamed. Steam-or smoke, perhaps- began pouring out of the top hatch at one point. At another, a strong stench of burnt meat filled the room. But Hux’s IT guy was, regrettably, literally lying dead at his feet, so he supposed the only thing to do was hope for the best.

 

Hux was on his third game of virtual dejarik, having actually managed to finish all of his reports, when the chamber gave a cheerful ‘ding’ and cracked open. It issued out billowing clouds of steam. Hux squinted as a hazy figure stepped out of the opening.

 

And then, she was standing before him. His mother, twenty years old, looking exactly as she had on her wedding day.

 

Exactly.

 

Hux’s stomach sank when he realized his glaringly obvious mistake.

 

Well, never mind. He would say that Mrs. Hux was simply a fan of cosmetic surgical procedures. Surely, the mother of one of the heads of the First Order would only be served at the galaxy’s finest beauty spas.(He made a mental note to quickly draw up some fake receipts for the galaxy’s finest beauty spas.)This was fine. He could still work with this. Nothing wrong with a youthful looking woman- and actually, wasn’t this how women were expected to always look at any age, anyway?

 

“How are you feeling?” He asked DeeDee, keeping his voice level and his eyes above her neck. He knew that the machine had only guessed most of her physicality, but it was more the principle of not seeing one’s own mother naked.

 

“Sensors indicate fully functional operations, despite this useless flesh which now encases me,” replied DeeDee, and therein Hux realized the second flaw in his plan.

 

“Why...doesn’t your mouth move when you speak?” He asked slowly, now actively fighting to keep calm.

 

None of her face moved when she spoke, actually. None of her face moved, at all. And yet, despite this, she still managed to give him a look of disdain.

 

“I do not have a jaw,” she said, her voice still emulating out of her internal speakers. “At you may recall, my face-plate was a solid piece. Ergo, there is no way for me to move this mouth.”

 

“And you don’t have any facial muscles either…” said Hux in barely more than a whisper, the full horror of this situation beginning to dawn on him.

 

“I can move my eyeballs,” DeeDee stated, rolling them around in their new sockets. It was true. But, he saw, she kept them fixed on a specific point for too long of a time, which only made her all the more unsettling. He began to shake his head.

 

“No.” he said. This was not going to work. He didn’t know why he thought it would- granted, he knew it was a long shot, but it would be nice for things to go his way today. For once.

 

“DeeDee,” he called, drawing her attention away from the phenomenon which was her new fingernails. “Come now, let’s get this-”

 

His holopad began beeping. Bloody hell. This was his private line- what type of emergency could have possibly occurred-”

 

“General!” Takshi’s abrasive voice boomed through the speakers. “I do hope you and your mother are alright! You were expected to check in two hours ago!”

 

Hux grit his teeth. “We are both fine, Colonel, though your concern does not warrant you contacting me at my private number.”

 

“Oh, forgive me! An old soul like me, you know, back in my day the military cabinet was always a bit closer. I thought that was still how it was done.”

 

“Well- I don’t want to have to tell you again.” He paused, swallowing thickly. Might as well give some lame excuse now, while she was on the line.

 

“And actually, Colonel-”

 

“Yes?” She asked, voice suddenly syrupy sweet.

 

DeeDee caught his attention out of the corner of his eye by titling her head at a clearly inhuman angle. Even she, it seemed, had noticed the sudden suspicious tonal change.

 

Hux stared at her in frank assessment. This droid who was wearing a waxen, dead-looking version of his mother’s face, the face of a woman who had herself been dead for decades. The droid who had raised him up until the age of fourteen. The droid who devoured data from holobooks in order to teach it to him, and who had taught him in turn to absorb information in the same way. The droid who had always answered any question he asked frankly, either giving him the raw truth or flatly telling him that such information was classified. The droid who, in her own binary way of thinking, always expected the absolute best from him, who completely believed that he could achieve it. Down to her very programing. And the droid who would never, ever approve of the third, and by far most stupid, decision he was about to make this day.

 

“Expect my mother and I to land within 0230 hours.” He snapped, and pressed the ‘end conversation’ key with more force than necessary.

 

He turned back to his mother. “Let’s get you some clothing,” he announced, suddenly high on a manic sort of desperation.

 

“Excellent.” She said in a monotone more dry than usual, slowly plodding after him. “More hindering, useless layers.”

 

“Well, I can’t be parading you around the planet we’re headed to naked, Dee.” He snarked back, still lost in this ridiculous moment.

 

“Niles.” She said, tilting her head back in such a way that Hux had always associated with a sort of less-strong disapproval. Like a sort of bitter half-smile. Her hair caught the light as it tumbled past her shoulders.

 

“How dare you talk to your mother like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone else in the First Order seems to have a ridiculous posh English name, so why not Hux.
> 
> Next chapter is Kylo chapter.


	2. Kylo Figures It Can't Be THAT Hard to Hunt Down A Droid

It was _hard_ , being Kylo.

 

To be trapped, in a relatively small environment, with so many useless beings. People were generally useless no matter where he went, of course. But never had he experienced so many minds in sync and unified toward a common goal. Stormtroopers, personnel, officers. All uncanny in their uniformity.

 

Oh, they had their individuals thoughts, their likes and dislikes, but their _needs_ were all one and the same: obey, destroy, advance. Any other thought besides was petty rabble.There was never any _substance_ to it, not compared to the things he himself thought and felt. He didn’t need to reach out with the Force to know _that_.

 

Not that Kylo _cared_ what other people thought or wanted, as long as it didn’t get in his way. He didn’t want to be friends with anyone. He wasn’t _lonely._ And even if he was - not that he was- everyone else was beneath him. Even that General. _Especially_ that General.

 

He clenched his fists tightly at the thought of that weasel-faced sycophant. The light above him flickered. Any officer unlucky enough to be sitting near him in the cafeteria slid to the farther edges of their respective tables. He could sense their animosity, and for once he was in complete agreement- he didn’t want to be here either.

 

He took a sip of soup through the straw he had stuck under his mask so that he didn’t have to take his helmet off. Everything about this situation was childish and _ridiculous_ , he fumed as he half-choked on the burning soup. He had been prepared to eat in his private quarters as per usual, only to be informed that almost all the service droids had been shut off to conserve power in preperation for so much of the crew leaving the ship. For _Parent Day_ of all reasons. This was his first year on a First Order ship, and much had irked and disappointed him, but this nonsense might well take the cake.

 

Kylo Ren did not have any parents. Ben Solo had, when he was still alive, but his parents had consisted of a useless bum swindler and a lying hypocrite. Now all he had was his Master, who would never bother with such things. It was laughable to even consider it. He might even bring it up to him, just so they both could laugh at it.

 

A distracting clatter snapped out of his deep revelrie. He looked up through his visor to see a fork on his table where no fork had been before. There was also a petty officer standing quite near to the table, frozen. His terrified eyes darted between the offending utensil and Kylo.

 

“S-sir,” he squeaked, “I can explain.” Krish, he really didn’t need this right now. Bad enough he had to _eat_ with other people around. Now he had to deal with an awkward situation. Kylo’s mouth suddenly felt very dry. He moved the straw to take a sip out of his glass of water, only to realize his grave error seconds later as the water-soup residue mixture hit his mouth.

 

“Ghubbrg.” He unwittingly replied, trying not to spit it up into the inside of his mask.

 

The officer started to tremble. “...sir?”

 

Kylo forced himself to swallow and managed to wave his hand dismissively. “Do not bother me with such trivialities,” he rumbled. He steepled his fingers and made to return to his self- commiseration, only to realize several moments later that the officer was still standing there.

 

“What is it?” He hissed, moments away from flipping the table.

 

“I’m sorry, I-” he stammered, “I’ve never had the chance to see you up close- not that I would want to- I mean! I would want to- if it were necessary, I-”

 

“Enough,” Kylo said menacingly.He pinched the officer’s trachea shut briefly to get him to cease his ramblings.

 

“Tiny officer…” he began.

 

“Name’s Mitaka,” choked the man from his new position closer to the floor.

 

“...I don’t care. Tiny officer, I will generously allow you to live despite your disrespectful gaping,” Master had ordered him to familiarize himself with the ship’s crew, after all. Surely not killing them right away would bring them all the more closer.

 

“But,” he continued, rising slowly out of his seat for effect, “do not do it again. Not that I plan to dine here frequently here with the rest of you. Ever.”

 

Mitaka’s brows furrowed as he continued to stare.

 

Kylo sighed, making a static noise from the mask. The mask, he had just noticed, which still had the straw sticking out of the bottom of it. Shit. Fucking shit. Had anyone else noticed? He did a quick scan of the room but the majority of surface thoughts appeared to be _food food food home parents food haha he’s bout to kriffing get it food food needs salt then why didn’t he just take his meal back to his quarters himself then-_

 

Kylo very, very, slowly turned his head back to fully focus on Mitaka.

 

“Back to my quarters,” he said in a completely flat voice, yanking the straw out in one violent motion and crumpling it in his fist.

 

He grabbed the edges of his table and flipped it hard enough to hit the ceiling, drawing his lightsaber as a shower of sparks rained down on him.

 

“ _BACK TO MY-”_

 

Never, in the history of the galaxy,  had a room cleared of people so quickly before.

 

\--

 

General Hux, surprisingly enough, did not confront him over the incident. Not that he ever did in person, claiming to be above such things (afraid of such things more like, Kylo thought with a smirk), but he was very keen on sending vaguely threatening memos to Kylo’s datapad. It appeared that the General was too busy being incredibly distressed in his own quarters.

 

Good.

 

Kylo, for his part, was skimming the holonet for information on Parent Day. He was trying to think of what, if anything, he should mention to his Master about it. Even though he didn’t expect his Master to _care_ or to, say, suggest that they spend the day together. No, that was beyond stupidity. He was simply researching it get to know the crew better, which he had been ordered to do anyway.Logic dictated that celebration in the Outer Rim -and especially within the First Order- was at least a little different, and Kylo wanted to know exactly what type of yokel customs he was bound to pick up on once the officers returned from their families.

 

 _Outer Rim celebration varies based on specific sub-region,_ read a particularly obnoxious yellow font on what looked like a blog, _some customs are very much like that of the core worlds, with time spent with the family and a celebratory meal. Within First Order territory, however, the traditions are dramatically different. Due to their strict warrior code, there is usually a duel between the parent and child. Depending on the mood or specific family, it can either be a friendly fight, or a bloody battle to the death-_

 

Kylo snorted and closed the window. As if. He knew very well that most officers were at most familiar with simulations, and would probably squeal at the sight of a nosebleed. Only stormtroopers saw real action, and they were lucky enough to not even have families. This obvious propaganda site was ridiculous and - he bit his lower lip- intriguing. There was something about that writing style that spoke to him, a kind of familiarity deep in his gut.

 

He hastily looked over his shoulder, despite no one else being in his room but him, and re-opened the site. The homepage was the same shade of sickening yellow, and emoticons littered the page. The author had even gone so far as to substitute them for letters, and Kylo found himself having to use the Force just to make sense of some of the articles.

 

The setup was indeed that of a personal blog, which Kylo could grudgingly admit was rather clever. Some entries were innocuous- cooking recipes, pictures of cute dogs- others were information posts that blatantly shit talked the First Order: First Order institutions were corrupt (true, unless it was so blatant that a Knight was sent to do something about it), the First Order soldiers conducted hazing rituals so brutal it had a 50% mortality rate (false, all the officers were pussies, only Kylo and his Knights were dedicated and brutal enough) the First Order officers were malicious and conniving by nature, and would push their own mother under the bus to get ahead (true).

 

Kylo had long abandoned his information gathering mission and was now reading the entries for the fun of it. Whoever had written this was horribly ignorant, and Resistance scum most likely. But damn it if they weren’t _funny_ . Kylo particularly enjoyed the rant posts- the author was clearly angry over a lot of little things, and he could definitely relate. The new blue concentration in the milk _was_ bullshit! Sniveling bureaucrats _were_ useless assholes! It was such a shame that Kylo was going to track this person down and kill them once he was done reading through everything.

 

He was particularly engrossed in a post where the author described literally shooting someone in the ass when they were younger, so much so that he didn’t hear his Master calling for him the first time.

 

He jerked his head up. _Yes,_ he replied guilty, _right away, Master_.

 

The site he left open on his pad, since he still needed to scan the rest of it and make sure it didn’t contain any notable threats, he thought extra loudly. He could almost feel Snoke rolling his eyes.

 

\---

 

“I have an important mission for you, my apprentice,” said Snoke, his hologram as intimidatingly large as ever. “Should you succeed, it will be a great blow to both the Resistance and Luke Skywalker. You are to leave immediately, following my instructions.”

 

Kylo allowed his shoulders to slump in disappointment- no use bringing up that it was Parent Day _now_ \- but then got a hold of himself and straightened up again.

 

“Yes, my Master.”

 

“The Resistance is using a new ploy to transfer top secret information,” said Snoke, leaning back into his throne, “plans are being transferred by droids, but by using new technology these droids are made to look almost perfectly human.”

 

Kylo nodded. A clever plot, under normal circumstances. But it would be child’s play for him to locate it. “I will be sure to find it and return with their plans, Master.” He would make him proud, he thought, hoping the sentiment had transferred.

 

His Master gazed back at him impassively. “All other data has been sent to your holopad. And one more thing.”

 

Hope dared to well up in Kylo’s chest as he gazed up eagerly. “Yes?”

 

“Do try to keep a low profile this time. It is imperative. Do not make the same mistake you did on Naboo.”

 

Kylo winced, recalling that he _may_ have gotten a little out of hand when a local made a disparaging comment about the late Senator Amidala. But that government building was in shabby condition anyhow, no matter how “historical” everyone whined it to be afterward.

 

“I will not fail you.”

 

“Dismissed.”

 

\---

 

 _Do not engage with the locals unless absolutely necessary. Inflammatory commentary does not count as necessary._ Kylo read the mission protocol, once more in his quarters. _Initial here to show you understand the previous statement._ He scowled as he did so, wondering how any one of his Knights could be so petty as to add that. It was mean. _Do not activate any weapon unless the mission is in danger of compromise or has been compromise. Keep all weapons hidden at all times._

 

Kylo scolded at the screen and flipped his hair over his eyes. He’d read the rest later on the ship.For now, he really needed to finish investigating that blog- he could feel the Force urging him toward it, and he wasn’t one to disregard premonition.

 

The post he opened up to was different from the one he had been reading before, the site seemingly jumping all the way back into the archives. Terrific. His hand hovered on the backspace key when the title caught his eye- _Every Parent Day._ Well alright, it was appropriate enough for this day. He was feeling charitable enough to give it a chance. And it didn’t have any emoticon letters, only Basic, which was really all the motivation he needed.

 

_Every Parent Day._

 

 _Every Parent Day, I feel the pain in my heart. I keep thinking it would lessen each year, but it never does. But on the other hand, I hope it never leaves. I would be a terrible mother if I felt nothing at all. I feel that I_ am _a terrible mother anyway, how if I had just spent more time with him, and less on my work, he would still be here with me. I ache every day but on this day especially, seeing all the parents with their children, laughing and playing and just- with each other. It is a burden too heavy to bear, but one I somehow feel I deserve. It has been five years since I lost my son forever, and I-_

 

Kylo slammed the datapad down so hard that the table shook. His hands shook. His mouth shook, tears running down his cheeks. And he didn’t know why. Who cares if some dumb fucking broad lost her kid? It had nothing to do with him at all. His throat formed a lump he could not swallow. Nothing at all, he repeated to himself, smashing his chair against the wall. He did not know this woman, he did not care about her pain. He didn’t he didn’t he didn’t. Fists hit anything in reach  with every affirmation.

 

His mood was completely ruined, and he swept out of his room later still fuming as he barreled down the hall. There was hardly anyone on the ship now besides key staff and stormtroopers so his journey was unencumbered.

 

Maybe she _deserved_ it, he thought furiously as everyone in the vicinity scattered out of his path. Maybe she was a terrible mother. He bet she was. He bet she never visited at all, always busy with work, making promises she couldn’t keep. How dare she feel sorry for herself after the fact, this stranger lady he clearly did not know.

 

He continued his path of abject misery all the way to his ship, where Captain Phasma was standing with a squadron of troops to see him off. Kylo liked Phasma as well as he could. He could respect a fellow soldier in the field, though he did not like the opaque nature of her thoughts. All he could really glean from her was that she was judging someone, somewhere, at all times. And even if it happened to be Kylo from time to time, he could rest assured that she held an equal amount for every single other being on the ship.

 

He gave her a sharp nod. “Captain.”

 

“Lord Ren.”

 

Because his ship was still being prepared for flight -Upsilon class ships were notably high maintenance- Kylo decided to make small talk by adding an entire other sentence to the exchange.

 

“Staying behind on the ship today, I see.”

 

“Yes. I don’t have any parents.” She said, matter of fact as ever.

 

A considerable silence stretched between them.

 

“Well.” said Ren finally, and swept aboard his vessel.

 

As the ship flew out of the hangar he caught Phasma hurrying away at a pace very much unlike her. But he supposed it didn’t matter- he couldn’t imagine the Captain, of all people, up to anything suspicious.

 

As his ship followed its coordinates he leaned back at his console seat to read the rest of his instructions.

 

_The droid is suspected to be staying at The Flare resort in sector 66 of continent 3, Coronata. You are to pose as an employee of the resort and scan its residents until the droid is located. Based on intercepted transmissions obtained by the Order two cycles ago it is likely that members of the Resistance will be as well- capture and execute at own discretion once primary mission is completed. Do not (!) break character beforehand (!!!)._

 

Kylo had a sneaking suspicion that it had been Jingo Ren who wrote this- he was the bitchiest Knight.

 

_Our plant will meet with you at rendezvous point 10.3.516 (“Resort Back Entrance”) to provide you with your uniform and add any additional information he feels is vital to the mission._

 

Below was what was supposed to be a picture of the plant, but instead it was a blank square with an x in the corner.

 

 _You loaded the picture in the report wrong,_ he snapped at  Jingo through the Force.

 

His reply was almost instantaneous. _That wasn’t me, Master, it was Tao Ren. Perhaps if you extended the time of your meditations you would be more accurate in your unfounded presumptions._

 

 _Fuck off,_ was his witty retort. He severed the connection sharply, hoping that it hurt.

 

Tao was offline, probably asleep but mostly likely high, and he continued to be as the bright pink clouds of Coronata surrounded Kylo’s ship as it broke atmosphere.

 

It was almost impossible to hate this planet with its always sunny sky dotted with puffy pink clouds, and its pleasantly warm emerald -green ocean where friendly mermaids played with tourists when it amused them. There were seedy motels and shady casinos which existed, but none in the wealthiest sector 66, once owned by the Emperor himself. Its police and security had a strict policy of keeping out the poor and the riff raff. As a result of all these factors combined, it was a favorite vacation destination among high ranking First Order officers and Republic politicians alike.

 

The mix caused a rather… interesting result. From what Kylo could sense, even from his just-landed ship, the members of the opposing factions were either engaged in passive-aggressive one upmanship, all-out shouting matches, or fucking each other’s brains out.

 

Kylo clicked his tongue, finding it all very blase; why they couldn’t just kill each other like mature adults was beyond him.

 

The ship had been landed in an assuredly discreet location, ready to be flown away by a discreet spy once Kylo was situated. He exitted sans robe and helmet, wearing only simple breaches and a black sleeveless tunic. The weather was hot, but not unpleasantly so, the artificial humidity controllers probably working at full capacity.

 

The sun warming his skin was not unpleasant, though it was bright, and he flipped on a pair of dark shades. He looked very cool.

 

He found that the streets were packed with tourists and merchants hawking their wares.

 

Everyone was wearing bright pinks and blues and purples, laughing, touching, barely a sober being in the crowd. There were many-non human sentients among them, a surprise considering the quantity of First Order guests. A Lorrdian merchant, swathed in many layers of fabric despite the heat, smirked as he bargained with a customer. A young Togruta slave weaved through the crowd in front of him, lekku flapping in its haste as it balanced too many drinks in its hands and on its head. A pair of Zeltron escorts leaning against a palm tree, wearing little but thin silver body chains, stared at him as he passed and giggled behind their pink, long-nailed hands. Kylo ran a hand through his hair- he really did hate going around without his mask.

 

With so many cognitive maps at his disposal, it was hardly difficult for Kylo to navigate through the undulating masses to The Flare. It stood on its own cliff, surrounded by lush gardens full of twittering jewel-toned birds. An infinity pool jutted out over the edge to overlook the sea. The building itself was designed tastefully, its walls a  modest sandstone white. And yet it still obstinately projected its own wealth, accented with gold and marble pillars and what looked like actual diamonds on the sign.

 

The front entrance was bustling with the activity of many just-landed black uniforms. Despite his heavy doubt that anyone would recognize him in his current attire, Kylo gave them a wide berth as he slipped deftly to the back of the building. One of the doors had been propped open, and as he drew closer to investigate an irritable-looking Reptilian popped its head out and glared right at him.

 

“ _There_ you are!” It squawked indignantly, scales turning from blue to orange in its ire. “You’re half an hour late!”

 

It was Kylo’s turn to flush. “There was a lot of traffic for parking!” He protested. Kylo had tried to drive around, of course, but the traffic cops had to be among the most brutal enforcers he had ever encountered.

 

The Reptilian’s forked tongue flicked out irritably. “Never mind. Come on in, I’ll get you your uniform.” Its eyes rounded considerably as Kylo drew nearer. “Ay, you’re a big one, aincha? I wasn’t warned about that.”

 

“I assure you, I am quite adept at blending in when necessary,” he sniffed, growing increasingly annoyed at the plant’s attitude. “My uniform?”

 

It led him down the halls, feather-tipped tail swishing so violently it almost caught Kylo in the knees. “Here we are,” it said, gesturing to a non-descript door labeled _dressing room_ with a cartoon smiley face star under it.

 

Kylo’s gaze flickered between his guide and the door. “Isn’t there anything else you’d like to tell me?” He demanded. Surely more information had come in about the droid by this point.

 

He was given what must have been a lizard version of a smirk. “Yeah. Good luck, princess,” and shoved him through the door before any further protest.

 

Kylo, to his credit, did not land on his ass, instead doing an awkward sort of one-legged backwards hop into the room. His face was rapidly warming in rage and he nearly tore his tunic in two in the process of getting it off. Might as well get this part over with.

 

He turned to find, not a small empty dressing room, but a rather spacious one, with rows and rows of tables, and  filled with other people. How _dare_ \- as if he hadn’t spent enough time around large crowds of lesser beings already.

 

And this situation was by far the worst yet, beautiful creatures of many different species flitting to and fro, half dressed or entirely without clothing. It was terrible. One human male had his leg lifted on a stool and was in the process of shaving his own ballsack, right in front of him. Kylo wasn’t a prude - he rather liked being dressed in very little in the comfort of his own rooms- but _come on._

 

A young looking dark blue Twi’lek wearing nothing but nipple tassels had noticed his gaping and tilted her head. “First day, hon?” She asked, kindly making her way toward him. The tassels swung madly as she walked. Kylo found himself hypnotized by them.

 

“Um- uh. No.” he managed, shaking his head violently. “Nope. There has been. A huge mistake here. I’m so sorry,” he continued pleadingly as the Twi’lek circled him, not quite knowing what he was apologizing for.

 

“Aw, honey,” she cooed, completely ignoring his previous statement. She softly trailed a hand down his stiff shoulder. “It’s alright to be scared.”

 

“No, _really_ , I-”

 

“ _Hey girls!_ ” She shouted, cupping her dainty hands around her mouth, “ _we got ourselves a cherry here!_ ”

 

There was a lot of excited squealing and shouting as a large group of of many different types of sentients (not all of them girls) surrounding him, poking and prodding and _touching_ with curious fingers. Kylo was beginning to feel very dizzy.

 

“R-really,” he croaked, a deep flush crawling up his neck. “Please st-”

 

“I _love_ these abs,” swooned one of them, a cherubic looking boy with a mop of light blond hair. He gazed up at Kylo with big blue eyes from under white lashes, softly trailing his fingers down his front. “Is this an eight pack?”

 

Kylo nodded dumbly at him, too overwhelmed with everyone _everywhere_ to do much else. At least two people were running their hands through his hair, someone with breasts was pushing up against his back, one person was holding tightly to each arm, pulling them back-

 

His brows furrowed as he reprocessed that. Tightly pulling his arms back?

 

His question as to why was quickly answered as he was thrown into a dressing table chair, having somehow lost his pants and boots in the process. His only saving grace was that he was too intimidated by everyone at once to get hard.

 

“Now, as much as I _love_ this hair,” began a deep red Zeltron woman, as she carded through what lay on his stomach. His ears began to feel hot and he averted his eyes. “And I really _do_ ,” she cooed, apparently encouraged by his embarrassment. “We’re going to have to shave it. All of it.”

 

The memory of that man shaving his balls rose up unbidden in Kylo’s mind. This was officially Too Far, even for him.

 

“Release me,” he ordered, weaving the Force into every syllable.

 

But they all just smirked at him, as if the need to rid him of all of his body hair trumped the power of the Dark Side itself. Kylo struggled valiantly, but in the end it was for naught and he had to lay back and accept it. He could always kill them all once they were done. And besides, the manicure they were giving him wasn't half bad. 

 

From there it was a blur, hands lifting different parts of him to shave and rub oil into, sweet smelling product put in his hair to give it “bounce,” lotion rubbed into his face and neck, eyelashes painted with mascara, lips painted with a pink-tinted gloss because, as one of them pointed out, he would do well playing the “coy-but-still-loves-giving-head” look.

 

He finally drew the line when one girl attempted to paint his dick gold. “Absolutely not,” he growled, finally able to draw out of himself his usual intimidating aura. The girl, who looked perfectly human besides for her bright pink hair, was not impressed.

 

“You want to go out there showing a naked cock?” She demanded.

 

“I don’t want my cock showing at _all_!”

 

They delved into a furious argument over it  until the original Twi’lek woman intervened.

 

“Ladies, ladies!” She protested. “Save that energy for work time!”

 

She turned to to Kylo with a look so kind he wanted to burn it right off her face. “It’s fine if you’re shy at first,” she said. She held up what looked like a heavy gold belt with long bolts of shear maroon fabric hanging from either side.

 

“You’ll be wearing this.”

 

“How about a pair of pants instead,” he said flatly. Something in the back of his mind told him that it would be extraordinarily wrong to wear that outfit in particular.

 

“How about no. Also, you’re still getting your nipples painted.” She snapped her fingers and pointed to them, and the pink-haired girl attacked them with a sort of rabid artistic vigor. Her smile had a little more bite as she turned back to him. “Aw, none of that sour-puss look, sweety. Smile!” Kylo pressed his lips into a thin line, the heavy gloss causing them to stick to each other.

 

“And remember, it’s Parent Day. Call your clients ‘Daddy,” “Mommy,” whatever! They’ll tip you more.” There was a wild, rambunctious cheer from everyone at that announcement.

 

She clipped an ornate collar around Kylo’s neck and patted the top of his head. He rolled his eyes up into his skull and called upon the spirit of his grandfather to give him an immediate death.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally have no excuse for any of this. Also, in case you care, Jingo Ren is my headcanon name for the square face knight everyone seems to like and Tao Ren is the priestly skull helmet one. 
> 
> Next chapter: A bunch more stuff goes wrong, right away. DeeDee reads someone too brutally and gets shoved off a balcony. Hux is accosted by an incredibly angry prostitute.


	3. DeeDee Continues to Be Annoyed at, Among Other Things, The Lack of Her Other Two Arms

Hux’s holopad beeped ominously as soon as the shuttle exited hyperspace. His inbox had completely refilled itself over the course of two hours, like an over-gluttonous pregnant Hutt.

 

Hux signed through his nose as he scrolled through, ever thankful that his crew was _competent_ enough to do anything without him.Well, nevermind. He would probably be demoted soon enough anyhow, if not laughed all the way back to the Unknown regions.  

 

A particular message caught his eye. Not only because of the subject title (which breached protocol by reading “Ayyyyy” instead of a two word summary of its contents) but because the little circle which indicated something “unread” had somehow been replaced with a tiny skull icon.

 

There were only seven such individuals in the entire galaxy ridiculous enough to do that, and Hux didn’t want to hear from any of them.

 

He opened it anyway, eyebrows rising higher into his hairline the further he read.

 

_Ay general brother_

 

_What’s good I just got a vision sayin I should tell u, so im tell u, is that master kylo ren is on undercover mission on same planet. In same resort. He disguised as a bellhop, or should be, the shrooms indicate something off but wont tell me what. Assume bellhop._

 

_Pls do not fuck him bec otherwise the planet will explode, which why I am telling you but shhhhhhh this is top secret lmao._

 

_Blessed be_

_Tao_

 

If he weren’t holding such an expensive piece of equipment, Hux would have slammed his forehead against it.

 

He was tempted to anyway. Being informed about the mission- ok, fine, not strictly in adherence to protocol. But a stroke of luck on his part, because now he knew to leave the resort as quickly as possible. He’d fake his _own_ death if he had to. Kylo Ren, as far as he could tell, served a narrow number of purposes, and none of them involve _espionage_ . And his cover was in a _subservient_ position at that, a bellhop was little better than a slave in these types of resorts. If Ren had landed before him, Hux could expect to walk into a lobby covered in a thick carpet of decapitated heads.

 

Not to mention the second half of the message. Really, not to mention, at all. Ever. He was tempted to delete the message right then, but- no. He was General now. He didn’t have to take this. He would archive it, as a memento. One more inappropriate suggestion like that and Tao Ren  would mysteriously suffocate from having all his “shrooms” shoved down his gullet at once.

 

“There are more physiological stress signs in you than before,” said a droll mechanical voice next to him, and Hux almost jumped out of his skin. In truth, DeeDee’s existence had slipped his mind just at that moment.

 

Because, really, if he ever ended up in a situation where he was forced to have intercourse with his co-commander, he wouldn’t stop after destroying one measly planet.

 

“Never mind that,” said Hux tersely as he shut off his pad. “More importantly, I want to go over your lines with you again.

 

She fixed him with a look of pure disdain, made more potent by the fact that her new eyebrows seemed intent on arching in the bitchiest way possible.

 

“The lines I am to recite in order to be complicit in your illogical, idiotic scheming.” She said.

 

“Those very ones,” he said dryly, right as Coronata came fully into view.

 

Once a planet of lush, natural beauty, it had since been ruined by heavy pollution; its clouds pink from acidity and its oceans a deep green with its overabundance of plankton. The star it orbited, yellow and hot, had no business being as close to the planet as it was.  How its real estate agents had spun these things into positives was a propaganda feat far greater than Hux had ever known.

 

DeeDee seemed to share this sentiment. “You can turn this ship around, right now, and just have Takshi executed on treason charges.” She said, doll eyes firmly fixed ahead as she gazed in utter contempt at the planet below.

 

“If only it were that simple,” He sighed, patting her ice cold hand. Note: do not let anyone take “Lady Hux’s” hand.

 

“But Takshi’s family is one of the top monetary supporters of the Order. Probably the reason that old bat hasn’t been forced into retirement.”

 

His mother remained in silent contemplation for the duration of the time it took for Hux to fly down and get into line for parking. He tapped his fingers on the console and sucked in a breath.

 

“So those lines-”

 

“Kill all of the Takshis and seize their assets.” DeeDee interrupted him. “On the grounds of conspiracy.”

 

“DeeDee, _no_.”

 

“Your father would have done it,” she said in her same matter of fact tone which, to Hux, still sounded rather sulky.

 

“No he would _not_ have. If anything he’d convince someone else to convince them to turn all of their assets in for fear of disgrace. And I’m not doing that either.”

 

“It would still be a more logical plan than this.”

 

Hux gave her a long stare, one which had a near perfect success rate of reducing subordinates to stuttering messes. She gladly returned it. Too late did he realize that, in retrospect, he had probably learned it from her.He may be able to go unblinking longer than the average person, but she had the advantage of not even needing eyelids in the first place.

 

“The _lines_ ,” he finally ground out as he averted his gaze, patience dwindling. It did not help that the ship’s compartment was rapidly heating up from that wretched, persistent sun.

 

DeeDee leaned back in her seat and let out a small sigh, uncharacteristically dramatic for her. Then her body perked up, hands clasped attentively in front of her.

 

“Oh, and it is _quite_ good to meet _you_ ,” she said in a more excitable voice, accent switching to pure Coruscanti. “And what a lovely hotel this is! Best I’ve ever been to! Better than my wildest dreams, even!”

 

“Why, thank you for such a genuine compliment, Lady Hux, I- HA!” Hux finally cut off the ship that had been rivaling his for a parking space.

 

DeeDee laid a delicate hand upon her breast and tilted her chin down in modest shock. “Something the matter, Colonel Takshi?”

 

“Oh no, just thinking of a backhanded way to undermine your son- hit the rear thruster button, Dee- that wouldn’t be obvious enough to earn me a reprimand.”

 

There was a significant pause as DeeDee decidedly did not do as she was told and the ship remained hovering above the ground.

 

“Dee!” He snapped, reaching across her for the switch. “Honestly! What’s gotten into you? Are you experiencing an auditory-motor malfunction?”

 

For a moment it really did seem like DeeDee had spontaneously shut off and Hux’s brows furrowed in worry. Then her head very suddenly swivelled towards him.

 

“Who is this ‘Dee’, Colonel? I am Lady Hux.”

 

Hux shut the engine off and silently pressed his forehead against the still-warm consol. The cabin was now unbearable with heat, despite the supposedly-functioning cooling unit, and his uniform was soaked through with sweat. How lucky that he had enough foresight to pack a spare.

 

A cool hand pressed against his shoulder. “Are you alright, son?”

 

Hux groaned in response, forehead now damp enough that it slid smoothly down the coordinate screen.This was going to be so stupid. He never recalled DeeDee being so defiant in the past, but she was probably still irritable from being forced into her “flesh suit,” as she sneeringly called it.

 

“You aren’t dead, are you?” She added snidely.

 

His eyes shot open. Maybe it was just the heat and the traffic, but he’d be damned if he were one-upped by a droid, regardless of whether it raised him.It was time that she heard a piece of his mind. She _would_ obey him! He was a _man_ now, goddamn it, not a boy, and she would _treat_ him like one!

 

\--

 

Hux dragged himself toward the lobby, ego heavily smarting and back hunched by the weight of the the luggage. The verbal beatdown his mother had given him had been thorough enough to not only force him to apologize profusely, but offer to carry everything despite her capacity to lift things up to fifty times her weight.

 

The sun had already burnt the tips of his ears despite the liberal amount of sun repellant he had slathered onto any exposed skin. His new uniform was already soaked through with sweat, despite there not being more than a ten minute walk distance between parking and the resort. Strands of hair hung over his eyes, and he didn’t dare imagine what type of state the rest of it was in.

 

God, he hated this sun. He wished there was just..some way to destroy it. Somehow.

 

DeeDee flounced beside him like a fucking queen, face as completely wrapped in bandages as it could without compromising positive id. That _was_ the whole point of this charade, after all. Her hair was pulled up and braided into a common style Hux knew to be popular in the Core, and she was wearing a light green tunic dress to compliment her eyes. It had been the real Lady Hux’s favorite color, apparently.

 

As they drew closer Hux realized, with a sinking feeling, that this resort was _heavily_ populated by First Order officers. Some were still in uniform, but even those in vacation wear he could identify on site. So, it appeared Takshi wasn’t doing him a great honor by inviting him to the hotel after all- if anything, it looked like she was trying to host a party.

 

(Unless she had known, all along, that Hux had been lying, and invited all their cohorts after the fact to bring the optimal amount of embarrassment upon him and they would all form a jeering mob to-. Stop it. That was going too far.)

 

“Now, remember,” he murmured, “It is _imperative_ that you do everything you can to not let anyone touch you. You’ll be found out right away.” They crossed into the hotel, and were immediately assauged by the feeling of the nice, very cold air system. “ _Especially_ not the bandages.”

 

His comm had been beeping incessantly since leaving the ship, and he finally answered it once he handed the luggage over to the staff.

 

“Yes, Colonel, we are finally here,” he began irritably.

 

“Oh, _excellent_ ,” said a simpering voice directly behind him. Shit. He snapped the comm off and turned toward her, trying to comb his hair back into some semblance of decency with his fingers..

 

“So glad to see you here at last, General! But oh-” she made a half-hearted attempt to salute, which he waved off with a thin smile.

 

“No, no need for that. We’re all off duty here,”

 

Takshi positively looked like a cat who had just stolen cream from a weaker cat. Her eyes flicked past him to the droid.

 

“And this must be your _mother._ ” She moved toward DeeDee, appraisingly, hand already extended. “Colonel Takshi.”

 

DeeDee merely stared at the offending appendage unblinkingly. And continued to stare. Hux cleared his throat.

 

She looked up to meet Takshi’s eye. “My apologies, Colonel. I am more used to Core world etiquette, which dictates one should bow upon greeting. But I will, of course, oblige.” She reached for a shake but Takshi quickly withdrew her hand, now smiling venomously. The screaming had started up in Hux’s head again.

 

“No, you are of _course_ correct, we- always strive to provide the most civilized services here.” The older woman bowed stiffly at the waist, which the droid returned with a graceful curtsy- a further slight not gone unnoticed. The screaming went up an octave, and a _serious_ headache was beginning to form at the back of Hux’s head. His eyes darted around desperately for something, anything, to divert attention to.

 

What his eyes landed on was a bellhop, slouching sulkely in the corner. A very... _peculiar_ looking bellhop, very pale and wrinkled, one eye a sickly yellow and the other completely black. Hux thought back to Tao Ren’s message and knew- this was _Ren_. He could feel the knowingness of it deep in his gut. He looked as ghastly as Hux had always imagined him to be, though the impression was slightly ruined by the ridiculously small cylindrical hat perched at the top of his bald head. It didn’t help that the uniform color was an obnoxious neon pink, either.

 

 _Arsehole,_ he thought as loudly as possible, hoping that Ren could hear him. If he did, he did not acknowledge it.

 

An outraged shriek snapped him out of his private gloating. It appeared that another woman, this one well past middle age and decked in a concubine's jewelry box worth of gaudy jewelry, had joined the fore.

 

“What is it?” He asked, looking very sharply at DeeDee. She stared impassionedly back at him.

 

The Colonel had flushed almost to a deep purple. “She-”

 

“The Colonel’s mother introduced herself to me,” she began, interrupting what was surely the beginning of an angry rant from Takshi and gesturing to the equally angry Mrs. Takshi.

 

“She enquired about my bandages and I replied that I had just come from surgery to youthen my looks, particularly my facial visage. Takshi the younger then used vocal tone classification 027b, ‘indicating subtle contempt’ to remark that she herself did not find it appropriate for older women to falsify their age. I merely pointed out that both she and her mother could benefit greatly from it themselves-”

 

“Okay! Right!” Hux quickly cut in, steering DeeDee away to walk toward the elevators.

 

“I am so sorry,” he continued in a more placating tone, stepping closer to the Takshis. “Despite her looks she really is...you know...long trips make her more than a bit cranky. And it’s been years, but the passing of my father...”

 

Mrs. Takshi raised a cynical eyebrow. “I _still_ don’t think-”

 

“Apology accepted, General.” Interrupted the Colonel, throwing her mother a meaningful look. “Of course, you’re mother should get her rest. Old Ben will show you to your rooms.

 

She gestured toward the obviously-Ren bellhop, which was just Hux’s luck.

 

\--

The elevator ride was uncharacteristically quiet, or so Hux thought. He kept sneaking glances and glares at Ren, but the old man seemed resolute in staring impassively at the opposite wall no matter how many nasty thoughts Hux sent his way.

 

Unsatisfied, Hux made sure to hold the other man’s gaze for as long as possible, face twisted into a sneer,  as he was shown into his room and handed his keycard. But Ren just blankly stared back at him.

 

“Will there be anything else, sir?” Ren asked in a raspy voice. So weak sounding without his mask!

 

“No, that will be all,” Hux said extra dismissively as he snatched at the key, hoping that it secretly stung. Ren left without so much as a punch into the wall.

 

Damn it. Perhaps his co-commander was more skilled at espionage than Hux had originally presumed.

 

He turned to find DeeDee staring at him, head tilted. “Did that human-drone offend you somehow?” She enquired.

 

“No.” He said with a quick shake of his head. If Dee could narrow her eyes, he was sure she would at this point.

 

The room was nice, he could admit. Surprisingly tastefully decorated. Very open air with a view overlooking the resort’s surrounding gardens. He noticed all his clothing had been unpacked and laid neatly on the bed, as if that sort of thing were normal, and couldn’t suppress a snort. Nice try, Takshi. As if he wouldn’t keep all his personals on him at all time.

 

“More importantly,” he continued before she could enquire further. “You need to stop insulting everyone. That’s why we went over your lines in the first place.”

 

“You did not instruct protocol on what to do if she insulted me first. I had to improvise.” She had not moved from her spot in the middle of the room, looking disquietingly like a cursed statue.

 

“Well, improvise something my actual mother would have done. Something a bit more diplomatic.”

 

“That most certainly _was_ something your mother would have done, regardless of her position,” protested DeeDee as Hux inspected the fridge. Well stocked with alcohol. Well, what a remarkable stroke of luck- as it so happened, he was feeling unnaturally thirsty.

 

“Considering she was well respected in Coruscant in the highest circles- or so it says from what I can garner- I highly doubt she would have bluntly commented on an older woman’s looks,” he replied, peeling himself out of his uniform jacket and surveying his dinner wear options. He sipped experimentally at his drink, and then took a large swallow.

 

“She would have.”

 

“Mhm.” Should he just go with the white tunic? Or was it too early in the season?  He took another over-large sip. Ugh, why had he packed red again, that always clashed horribly-

 

“That woman was constantly accusing that there was something between your father and I.”

 

Only years of training in repressing physical reactions stopped Hux from spitting the entirety of his drink onto his clothes. As it was, some of it dribbled down his chin. He forced himself to swallow, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes.

 

“What?” He nearly squeaked, throat burning. “You what?”

 

“Well of course it didn’t actually happen. You’ve seen my old body. It’s not nearly as sexually oriented as my current one. And my programming is to assist and nurture, not romance.”

 

“Then..then why?” He asked weakly, wiping his mouth on his arm.

 

No matter how hard he tried, he suddenly couldn’t get rid of some of the most disturbing images he had ever thought of. DeeDee’s old body had also had proper hands, four to be precise, and they all had to be soft enough to be able to handle a small child without injury, and no. No, no, no, no. No. He squeezed his eyes shut.

 

Didn’t he deserve to not imagine his father hand fucking a robot? Didn’t he deserve that, at least?

 

“Lady Hux was always very wary of my female programing,” DeeDee went on, seemingly unaware that Hux was in the middle of a quiet mental breakdown. “After some analysis I was inclined to conclude it was because she was always off-planet so often, it made her insecure. Very paranoid woman in general, I think. As it was I was the only female-equivalent being that worked closely alongside him, so…”

 

“And it was all paranoid speculation,” said Hux quickly with a hysterical little laugh. “Correct? Of course correct.”

 

“Of course, Niles.” said DeeDee coolly, giving him her equivalent of a scowl. “As I said, it isn’t in my programming. I was loyal to the Commandant as my _master_.” She paused. “He was a good master. His passing is quite unfortunate.”

 

It was rare indeed for DeeDee to express sentiment. “Oh, Dee-”

 

“And besides,” she continued on unhearing, “he was already having an affair with the Grand Inquisitor.”

 

“Aha.” he said, still less horrified than he had been some minutes before. “Well, that’s- wait a minute, weren’t all of the Grand Inquisitor’s _male_?”

 

“I believe so. Didn’t you ever wonder which side you’d inherited your homosexuality from?”

 

Hux was already halfway back for the bottle upon her reply. Strange indeed, he thought, abandoning his glass entirely and drinking it straight. Considering the holos he had seen of his mother’s upper class relatives, he had always assumed he’d gotten it from her side.

 

\--

 

Hux was skilled at a great many things- he had to be, obviously, to obtain the position he had at his age- but if he were to rank astuteness from greatest to least, then acting sober while piss drunk was very much near the top.

 

Well...blast it all. He was on vacation, wasn't he? And if the Colonel was going to relentless hound both him and DeeDee until the latter tore her apart in cold, metallic rage, then he wasn’t going through any of it sober.

 

Also, he was _definitely_ getting demoted now, because he had wandered in some sort of dinner theater in the hotel basement which, as far as Hux could tell, was nothing more than a very tastefully choreographed multi-species peep show.

 

How had he gotten here? One may ask, philosophically. _How does anyone get anywhere?_ He would roar back. By a combination of heavy intoxication and subconscious intuitiveness, you imbecile!  

 

He and DeeDee were supposed to be dining with Takshi and some other high-ranking officials, and so naturally he was staring right at the barely concealed labia of a Theelin pleasure dancer. This was what was happening, and he didn’t care anymore. The room was dark, and crowded, and no one was going to bother him.

 

DeeDee leaned closer from her seat beside him. “I believe we are among what is known as the inferior hoi polloi now.”

 

Hux grunted in agreement, interest still firmly on what was happening on stage. A human woman had joined the Theelin carrying several medium sized glass balls. He wasn’t very excited by this, sexually, but he couldn’t help but watch in a mixture of curiosity and horror.

 

A blue hand landed on his shoulder, snapping him out of his engrossment. He looked up to see who it was only to have a nipple tassle hit him in the face.

 

“Enjoying the show, hun?” asked what clearly was a Twi’lek whore. She licked her lips at him voraciously.

 

Hux turned his head back toward the front, radiating disinterest. “Not in any way that will earn you extra credits from me, I’m afraid.”

 

“We were actually just discussing how he’s a homosexual,” DeeDee added, leaning in conspiring toward the whore.

 

“Oh, yeah?” Her eyes took on a gleam as she looked past Hux at her new target. “I don’t suppose you’re one also?”

 

“No, I’m his mother,” she replied, patting Hux on the knee.

 

The whore’s eyebrows knit. “I see…not so gay after all, then...” She muttered with one last once-over at Hux. He didn’t even try to wonder what she was talking about.

 

She left them alone after that, thankfully. Hux was now annoyed. All three of the glass balls were gone, and he had been too distracted to have seen where they went.

 

Another hand landed on his shoulder mere minutes later. Heavily, this time. A man, now, also clearly a whore. This one seemed to be specialized in fulfilling slave owner fantasies. He was very odd looking, for someone in this sort of profession, sort of rough around the edges- none of the soft beauty he was used to seeing on other boy toys for hire. All hard, firm muscle, shiny with oil but still obviously rough. But- he illogically looked appealing _because_ of his off-kilter ugliness, actually.

 

He also looked very, very angry.

 

Hux waited for what he considered to be more than an appropriate amount of time for the whore to start his propositioning. As it was, he seemed content to clutch his shoulder and glare murderously at him, breathing heavily.

 

“Can I _help_ you?” Hux finally asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“ _General_.” The whore growled in a surprisingly deep voice, nostrils flaring.

 

His grip tightened. Hux was unimpressed.

 

“Sorry, have we _met_?” Hux snapped, the remnants of his paltry good mood now completely failing.

 

The other man’s widened and he took a step backward, as if forgetting himself. “Uh,” he said, softer,  eyes now refusing to meet his. “No. I just recognized you...from a holofeed.”

 

“And you thought you’d try and have a go, right? Figured I might be rich with so high of a rank? Or did your little blue friend send you?” Hux drained the contents of his glass and slammed it rather unnecessarily back onto the table. It appeared he couldn’t escape harassment anywhere.

 

“Come,” he said, tugging at Deedee’s arm as he stood up.

 

The whore was still openly staring at him, over-expressive face oscillating between embarrassment and openly murderous intent. Maybe Hux had ordered a relative of his to be killed, or something. His dark eyes darted between Hux and DeeDee, and Hux could feel them still on the back of his head as they made their way toward the exit.

 

“Wait!” He called. Hux resolutely ignored him.

 

Hux dragged DeeDee along, out of the lobby and onto the grounds, until he managed to find a place of solitude. An isolated balcony, on the edge of the cliff, overlooking the ocean below. The sun was halfway set, casting the sky in shades of pink and violet.

 

Hux leaned his arms against the heavily scuffed plaster railing and sighed, head hanging down to overlook where the waves met the rocks. It was calming, to know that those stubborn rocks would eventually be beaten down into nothing one day.

 

After a moment or two of leaving him to his drunken introspection DeeDee joined him at the ledge.

 

“You’re slouching.”

 

Hux opened his mouth to retort when a body barrelled into him. (A firm, smooth body, the stupid part of his brain supplied). Hux found himself on the ground, head spinning violently as the alcohol finally fully caught up to him. He squinted up and found his assailant to be the same awkward whore as before.

 

“You need to come with me. Now.” he said with much too serious calmness. As if it were a simple fact of life, instead of a ridiculous demand he was making while pinning Hux against the marble floor.

 

Hux couldn’t help but laugh, causing the whore’s heavy brows to knit.. “I appreciate the tenaciousness you put into your work. Really. But this is the _worst_ -” and here he broke off in a fit that he had to calm himself out of - “the _worst_ seduction technique I’ve ever experienced.”

 

The whore’s expression grew stormy and his grip on Hux’s arms tightened. “I’m-”

 

DeeDee’s fist slammed into the whore’s face. Or rather, it should have, by all accounts. Its trajectory jumped at the last moment and it barely grazed his cheekbone. Hux pressed his lips together, suddenly nauseous from thinking too hard about it, the illogicalness of what should have been simple physics. He resolved to stop drinking for the night.

 

“Release him immediately,” said DeeDee, now tugging unsuccessfully at the man’s arm.

 

“Why, is it in your _protocol_ to protect him?”

 

“No!” Said Hux quickly. “No, haha, what does that even mean, ‘protocol?’”

 

They both ignored him. DeeDee was glaring so hard Hux was surprised that the man on top of him didn’t combust.

 

“He’s too good for you.” She said.

 

“What?” They both asked, the whore in outrage and Hux in flat disbelief.

 

“On looks alone,” she gestured along his body. “Good physique, but marred by scarring. Your face is too long and asymmetrical. The ears, particularly, are unacceptable.” The whore had lifted himself off of Hux and was towering over her. Part of Hux suggested he should do something, but the rest was very happy on the ground.

 

“Physiological scans show highly raised areas of tension, everywhere. Prognosis: chronic anger or stress issues. High indication of mental instability.”

 

He was backing her up against the railing, shoulders tensed and breathing heavily, but she just stared up at him unmoved. “Good hair, but in sloppy condition. Good height, but sloppy posture. If I had to guess, since I don’t know you that well, I’d still say that’s a good description of you. Good potential but slo-”

 

She couldn’t get the final word out as he grabbed her face with one absurdly large hand, tearing past the bandages and synthetic flesh into metal, and slammed her over the ledge.Down, down below. She did not scream.

 

That isn’t good, Hux thought blurrily.

 

Then the whore stood there, entire body heaving and trembling with emotion, staring emptily at the spot DeeDee had just been standing.

 

“Shit.” he said quietly. Hux was inclined to agree, and that was his last thought before his eyes rolled back into their sockets and everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> u kno she ded 
> 
> Next chapter : Kylo uncovers a conspiracy from within The Order itself!


	4. Mistress Orgasma Gets Swindled

“ _ I just gave you amazing fellacio,”  _ Kylo said boredly as he waved a lazy hand across the client’s eyes. 

 

“You just gave me amazing fellacio.” The client repeated back at him in a monotone. 

 

“ _ It led to explosive release and now you are relaxed.” _

 

“I came really hard and now I need to lie down.”

 

“ _ You will recommend me to your wealthiest friends staying with you.”  _

 

“I will recommend you to all of the wealthy friends I owe favors to.”

 

“ _ Very _ good,” said Kylo, clasping his hands together and leaning back into his incredibly pillowed couch.. “That will be two thousand credits.”

 

Had the need to stay under cover not been so imperative, Kylo would have broken every whore’s neck once he snapped out of the trance brought on  by their strange ritualistic group molestation. A lesser man would have succumbed to panic. Maybe would have cried, maybe would have actually sucked a dick in his confusion, while crying. But luckily Kylo was no such lesser man. He was a greater man. And he had a plan. 

 

He carefully counted out the amount of money he had earned so far. At one client every five minutes, it came out 60,000 credits this hour alone. As far as Gi’zahan - the Twi’lek who had started this mess, and the club’s Madam- knew, he had been a genital-taking  _ machine.  _ Now it was time for Phase Two.

 

He stuck his head out of the small room at the back of the club he had been assigned. His was “special,” apparently, because it had been mocked up to look like a Hutt’s palace. 

 

Gi’zahan, lounging up front on a stool,  looked up from her holobook. “Something up, Matt?” 

 

“Yeah. I’m tired.”

 

“How many clients have you had?”

 

“Twenty four.”

 

“ _ Twenty four?”  _ She whistled. “Maker’s tentacles. Take a break, kid.”

 

Excellent, he thought, swaggering toward the exit. Truly, he was a tactical genius. Now he would just leave, sneak around the back again, and hunt down the real contact.And then kill him. He was  _ so  _ not digging this itchy collar, and it was all this guy’s fault for being a no-show. 

 

Kylo walked out of the employee exit.

 

Kylo heard a very distinct Wookie wail  _ There it is  _ and very distinct voice say “Well I  _ know  _ that, Chewie!” 

 

Kylo turned on his heel and walked back through the employee exit. 

 

For a moment, he leaned with his back pressed against the wall, unable to comprehend what was happening. Surely,  _ he  _ wasn’t about to walk into this club. Surely, Kylo wasn’t about to face him right now, with gold paint on his nipples. 

 

That wasn’t going to happen. This  _ could not  _ get out. He had no other choice: he was going to have to kill Han Solo. 

 

Solo and Chewbacca walked through the glittery entrance doors and Kylo dove under the nearest covered table. 

 

Well, this was still ok. This was  _ smarter _ actually, he would wait for those two to settle in to watch the show, and  _ then _ he would kill them.

 

Heavy footsteps walked past him. When Kylo peeked under the tablecloth he could see the bottoms of a pair of shoddy boots and some very hairy legs. 

 

“I hear you got a ‘slave Leia’ special going on today.” He heard. 

 

A  _ what? _ A  _ slave Leia?  _ Kylo glanced down at his scant garments. Cold sweat began to prickle on the back of his neck. No.  _ No.  _ He began to rapidly shake his head, eyes bulging. Surely-

 

“We certainly do!” said Gi’zahan. “You missed him though, he just stepped out for an extended break.” 

 

Kylo shoved a fist into his mouth to muffle his scream.

 

“...What was that?”

 

“Oh, probably a client of Mistress Orgasma. She should be finished soon, if you’d like to amuse yourself with her instead?”

 

“Eh...what do you think, Chewie?”

 

Kylo never heard Chewie’s reply. He must have blacked out by the intensity of the sudden wave of revulsion rolling through him. When he came to, the music had a more upbeat rhythm and it sounded like a larger crowd had gathered.

 

“And now,” he heard the announcer say, “make some noise for Mashlecheyt and her five-foot long prehensile tongue!” 

 

Dinner time, then. Kylo groaned as he slowly crawled his way out from under the table. Han must be long gone.

 

Something nigged at the back of Kylo’s brain. There was a familiar presence here. He surveyed the dimly lit  room, eyes landing almost immediately on the back of a copper head. He knew that head. 

 

Who knew that Hux was secretly so  _ depraved _ ?

“Finally back, eh? Take a nice little nap?” asked Gi’zahan dryly, materializing at Kylo’s shoulder.

 

“Uh huh,” he said, eyes still fixated on Hux as the General leaned over to talk to his Ladyfriend. Girlfriend? Did they get off from watching this type of thing  _ together _ ? He could feel his cheeks warming, in his...obvious distaste. 

 

Gi’zahan craned her neck to follow Kylo’s sightline. “Someone you know?”

 

“That’s General Hux of the First Order.” He said in a monotone. 

 

“ _ Really?  _ Shit, I bet he’s loaded.” She darted toward the General without another word.

 

Kylo stood stock-still, staring holes into the back of Hux’s head as he was unsuccessfully solicited. He watched as Hux shook his head and patted the knee of the woman sitting beside him. Seriously, who  _ was  _ she? Kylo sent out a tendril of the Force to give her mind a gentle probe.

 

Nothing.

 

Brows furrowing, he pushed harder and was met with the same empty void. How was that possible? Even in the case of someone with strong mental shields, he could still feel  _  something _ . It was as if this person wasn’t even a person.

 

Wait.

 

He did a  _ very  _ shallow glance off the top of Hux’s thoughts, so light even the unusually auspicious general couldn’t possibly sense it. The man was very intoxicated, his thoughts abnormally jumbled- which, in Hux’s case, meant he read more like a normal human being- but one idea stuck out like a sore thumb.  _ Droid disguise not any officer know.  _

 

Oh.

 

Oh shit. 

 

Oh  _ shit!  _ Kylo felt giddy in his sudden glee, his mouth stretching into a large, close-lipped smile. This was the disguised Resistance droid!  _ Hux was a spy!  _ All of the day’s suffering was worth it, just for this. He was going to execute this stuck up prick himself, are a nice,  _ long  _ session with him to extract every single scrap of Resistance information from his unnervingly creepy machine-like brain. He stepped forward, eager to nab that little rat, preferably by grabbing the back of his head  slamming it down onto the table-

 

“Woah, honey! Slow down!” Gizahan stepped in front of his determinant war path. It took all of Kylo’s effort to not grab her throat and crush it in his bare hand.

 

“What,” he growled through clenched jaw, eyes darting between her and the General-Traitor, as if he could slip from view at any moment. 

 

“So, just head’s up, guy claims he’s gay, but has some sort of weird Mommy thing going on with the woman beside him? I ain’t judging, but I don’t think he’ll bite.”

 

“I’ll convince him!” Kylo snapped, pushing her away with enough force that she stumbled. 

 

This was going to be the most satisfying thing he’d ever done since killing Meer Bitz back at the Jedi Temple.  _ Fuck  _ Meer Bitz. 

 

\---

 

Kylo stared at the spot where the droid had just been standing, willing it to be un-thrown back up the cliff. No such luck.

 

“Shit,” he muttered.

 

“Tah,” Hux slurred behind him in agreement, head hitting the floor with a  _ clunk _ . 

 

He still had the Traitor here. He could still extract whatever information he wanted from him. And the droid would have just been destroyed after everything, anyway.

 

So. Another successful mission, if he did say so himself. 

 

He scooped Hux up in his arms. The Traitor’s head lolled as he was lifted off the ground, a bit of drool dribbling out of his mouth onto his chin. Kylo wiped it off with his thumb distastefully. 

 

It was odd, seeing him out of uniform. He almost seemed human without it. And  _ boy _ , was he thin. The greatcoat added a lot. Light, too. Kylo bet he could break Hux’s arm if he gripped it hard enough. 

 

It was probably quite a sight, to see Kylo march through the lobby in little more than a loincloth and collar holding a slight man who was way less attractive than Kylo in every way. But no one noticed, Kylo made sure of that. He willed their heads to turn away and their eyes not to see. 

 

Now to just get to his ship. 

 

On his way he passed a woman in a hideously garrish dress standing outside a dining room. She looked vaguely familiar, hissing into her comm, “Well,  _ find them.  _ I  _ know  _ something’s up with those two!” 

 

He walked out of the lobby.

 

“You owe me seven thousand credits, Han Solo!” shouted an angry, pink Zoltron in leather gear, cracking her whip at the cowering and cornered man in question. 

 

He walked back into the lobby. 

 

Hux’s room would certainly make for a good interrogation room right about now, Kylo decided. And from what he’d seen of this hotel so far, the walls were probably sound-proofed. 

 

Kylo patted down Hux’s pockets, looking for his key card. Hux batted his hand away from his thigh in his sleep. “No,” Kylo heard him murmur, “that’s… four is ...too many arms…”

 

He would have to persuade the front desk to give him another key, it seemed. A task made harder as he had to convince them to hand him a key, with no ID, all the  while convincing the sharp eyed Mirialan sitting at the desk that he was  _ not  _ dressed in a lewd outfit and  _ not  _ suspiciously holding an unconscious man in his arms. 

 

Never before had the power of the Darkside been wasted on such frivolities. 

 

“Well, here is your key, we just need you to sign here, Mr…”

 

“Matt.” 

 

The Mirilian’s eyes narrowed further. “I thought you said your  _ first _ name was Matt.”

 

“It is,” said Kylo quickly, “Matt is...my first and last name…sort of a family tradition.” He squeezed his eyes shut briefly. 

 

She gave him a look Kylo recalled Leia Organa giving him quite a lot. 

 

“....I see. Well Mr. ‘Matt Matt,’ you are all set. Old Ben will show you to your room.”

 

“Yeah.Thanks,” said Kylo, swinging around so violently that Hux’s head jerked as he began to follow a decrepit old man who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. 

 

“Oh, and it’s Matt  _ Matt  _ Matt by the way! That’s my middle name too!” He shouted spitefully over his shoulder. The receptionist rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to her datapad. 

 

\--

 

Hux came to right as the door to his room swung open. His feathery eyelashes flickered as his eyes opened. He looked up at Kylo and then turned his head to look at the bellhop. 

 

“ _ Ren! _ ” He shouted, so loudly that Kylo almost dropped him. Blast. How had he  _ known _ ? His grip on Hux tightened as the man tried to twist his way out of Kylo’s arms. 

 

But Hux was ignoring Kylo, instead stretching out his arm toward the bellhop.

 

“Ren! I  _ order  _ you to save me from this _ violent _ ,  _ bloodthirsty whore _ !” He screamed, his voice going up a full octave. 

 

The bellhop looked at Kylo questioningly. Or maybe apathetically. He didn’t appear to have a large range of facial expressions. “Roleplay.” said Kylo to him, prying Hux’s fingers off the doorpost as he dragged him into the room.

 

“ _ Ren, damn you, you useless-  _ “ Kylo slammed the door behind him with the Force, not caring if Hux noticed. Why Hux knew he had a mission in the hotel aside, why the  _ fuck  _ did he think Kylo was that particular bellhop? There were plenty of young, nubile employees Hux could have guessed instead, and he chose the  _ ugly  _ one?  Did the impressive aura of his rawly beautiful physicality not  _ radiate  _ off of Kylo at all times?

 

He threw Hux roughly onto the bed, where he lay pathetically, still drunk and now hiccuping uncontrollably. Kylo flicked him into unconsciousness before he could say anything else irreparably stupid. 

 

_ “Mother,”  _ Kylo heard him slur, almost a sob, right as his eyes slid shut again.

 

It was not uncommon for hardened soldiers to call for their mothers in times of duress. But the weight of that word, coming from Hux, was peculiar. Usually the sentiment radiating out was  _ home  _ or  _ safe  _ or  _ warm  _ or  _ comfort.  _ But sliding clumsily off of Hux’s tongue, Kylo very distinctly felt  _ droid.  _

 

It pricked Kylo’s interest, he could admit, even if the petty emotions of the Traitor shouldn’t matter to him.

 

He followed that line of sentiment back into Hux’s head. A picture of the Resistance droid in its artificial skin immediately popped up. No, not _ that _ one. He pushed that category aside. It was  heavy with connection lines- no doubt from all the  _ spy  _ secrets it was attached to. 

 

But besides that, there wasn’t much. A smattering of tiny pinpricks, relating to vague memories of interacting with medical and maintenance droids. He felt his way back to the Resistance droid. Perhaps he was being too literal. Could Hux associate this droid with his mother because his  _ family  _ was from the Resistance? Kylo felt a shiver of trepidation at having anything in common with this conniving little man-  _ no,  _ he reminded himself. Not  _ him _ . Hux would have something in common with  _ Ben Solo.  _

 

A strong connection from the droid took him back toward long-term memory, where it branched off  into emotion as well. Funny, Kylo wasn’t even aware that Hux even  _ had  _ any emotion, besides all-encompassing irritability and stick-up-the-ass syndrome.

 

He tugged himself toward its juncture of childhood memories and burrowed further inside:

 

\---

 

-devotion toward a cause-

 

-heavy gaze of an older man/ 

 

/looking so tall, not burning into him but constantly appraising-

 

-cold arms, metal, softer than they should be-

 

[emotion=true] frustration

 

-looking down at stick thin limbs, panting for breath-

 

Analysis, final: not strong enough.

 

Analysis, final:  **the weak nerfs get eaten**

 

[If: A metallic but matronly voice]=  _ Humans are weak in their sentiment. You are better, this way. _

 

[ If:A charismatic bass voice]= _I thought he would achieve greater things._

 

[If: A metallic but matronly voice] =  _ I have calculated that he will. He  _ will. 

 

-fire, everywhere, on the rainy planet. The academy crumpling:// 

 

[protocol: new= socialize with the other boys on the ship, won’t you?] 

 

_ She sent  him book after book through the holonet, long past when everyone who had left, left. A strong and steady insistence in correspondence, data gathering she called it and he rolled his eyes every time. _

 

_ He didn’t ask how she could power herself, so long after, ordered to not leave the corner in the office. _

 

_ One day the messages stopped.  _

 

\--

 

Hux’s eyes snapped open when all three moons had long risen in the sky. Kylo had drawn out any symptom of hangover from his mind. 

 

He figured it was an appropriate enough apology for killing someone’s mother by accident.

 

And for then completely wiping his mind of said accident afterward. How lucky he was that alcohol often made the perfect scapegoat.

 

Hux rolled onto his side and caught sight of Kylo. He blinked.

 

“Who the  _ kriff _ are you? And what are you doing in my armchair?” 

 

“It’s comfortable.” It was. Very buttery baby nerf leather. 

 

“It’s-” Hux blinked rapidly. Kylo could feel irritation rolling heavily off of him. “I’m- are those my clothes?!”

 

Most of Hux’s clothes hadn’t fit Kylo, naturally, so he had to settle for a pair of baggy pajama pants ( more like leggings on him) and the greatcoat (more of a regularcoat on him).

 

“I had to take some of yours, because mine were destroyed when we had sex,” Kylo explained calmly.

 

“I’m a whore.” He added.

 

Hux gave him a long look. His brows furrowed. “I can believe the last part, but we did  _ not  _ have sex.”

 

Kylo leaned forward and pointed an accusatory finger at Hux. “We  _ did  _ have sex,” he said forcefully, taking care to weave every word with truth and believability, “And it was  _ amazing,  _ it was  _ the best sex you’ve ever had,  _ and you will think about it  _ for the rest of your life because of how good it was.  _ You will  _ cry, _ alone at night _ , knowing you can never experience something that good  _ ever _ again, and, and-”  _

 

“Alright, alright,” said Hux, waving his hand in front of his face as if warding off an insect. Kylo relaxed back into his chair.

 

“I know what’s really going on.” He continued flatly.

 

Kylo’s heart skipped a beat.  Damn it, Hux was too strong-mindedly cynical to accept the bait.

 

“Oh?” Kylo asked cooley. “You question this truth?”

 

Hux blew out a breath. “I’ve heard of this scam before. A club plies the client with drinks,enough to knock him out, and when he wakes up there’s a whore demanding payment for services he can’t remember asking for or doing.” 

 

He smiled humorlessly at Kylo.

 

_ Knowingly. _

 

“...What about the scam where a client claims to forget the whore’s services and refuses to pay him? Have you heard of that one?” 

 

“Excuse me, I  _ refuse  _ to believe that, even in my terribly drunken state, I would have chosen  _ you  _ as a bedmate!” Hux drew himself up until he was sitting as straight-backed as possible.

 

What little pity he held for Hux rapidly dwindling. “What do you  _ mean _ you wouldn’t have chosen me?”

 

“I’m not fond of horses.” Hux said dryly, staring him dead in the eye.

 

Kylo slammed Hux into the wall like a ragdoll with the Force. As he slid down to the floor he slipped back into unconsciousness.

 

“Shit.” Kylo muttered. He hoped multiple mind wipes didn’t cause  _ too  _ much brain damage. 

 

\--

 

Hux’s eyes snapped open. It was now close to the beginning of dawn. 

 

Hux rolled onto his side and caught sight of Kylo. He blinked.

 

“Who the  _ kriff _ are you? And what are you doing in my bed?”

 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Kylo deadpanned. 

 

Hux sat up in bed, pulling the sheets up over his bare chest like some blushing maiden. Kylo had stripped him and jammed him under the covers, hoping it would fool him better this time.

 

“You- we- are those my clothes?”

 

“Yes. I had to borrow some of yours. Mine were destroyed. During the sex.” 

 

“Uh....huh.” 

 

Hux narrowed his eyes at him, the knowing look making a reappearance in the gleam of his eye.

 

Kylo wished everyone would stop doing that whenever he lied. He knew for a fact that he was an excellent actor.

 

“If you don’t believe me, go look in the mirror,” Kylo offered. 

 

Hux grabbed his datapad from the bedside table and opened the ‘mirror’ function. He examined the many hickey bruises now ringing his neck. Kylo had used the Force to do that, of course. Besides for the first one. He needed something to compare to for authenticity sake. Great emotional sacrifices must sometimes be made in the name of serving the Dark Side. 

 

“Fine.” Hux said tersely, shooting Kylo a dirty look.

 

“What are you still doing here, then?”

 

“You need to pay me.”

 

“Working as a whore, are we?” Hux asked condescendingly.

 

“That’s right,” Kylo replied firmly.

 

Hux sighed heavily and rolled out of bed. He didn’t seem all that concerned at his own nudity as he searched for his wallet. Not that there was much to look at, all smooth pale skin and no muscle. Kylo was a bit surprised at all the freckles, though.

 

“What do I owe you?” 

 

“Um,” said Kylo, deliberating whether this called for extortion. It wasn’t like he needed money, he just thought it would be amusing if Hux went broke from whoring.

 

“Did the woman who was with me say where she was going?” Hux asked suddenly, glancing around. “I assume one of us asked her to leave when we...copulated.”

 

Kylo smirked at him languidly, but his mind was turning itself over on what to say. He hadn’t really gotten that far in terms of planning. He was going to mention something about the droid, obviously, but he had been rather hoping to slam Hux against the wall a few more times first.

 

“I….”

 

“You didn’t just let me leave her at the club did you?”

 

“...yes?”

 

“Why would you do that? She’s an old lady!”

 

“That was  _ no  _ old lady.” Kylo shot back. “And anyway, it’s not my  _ job  _ to do that. This is your fault.”

 

Hux gave him a hollow stare, the one he used whenever he thought Kylo or a subordinate was being exceedingly stupid, but the Knight could feel delicious tendrils of guilt start to radiate from him.

 

“Well.” Hux said, finally beginning to dress himself. “I’m not paying you until she’s found. I suggest you help me look for her.”

 

Kylo deliberated on just telling Hux to fuck off. But from what he could recall of his own salad days of brothel-going, whores weren’t very forgiving when it came to payment. And Hux wasn’t a stupid man of by any means, so he would  _ certainly  _ find it suspicious. 

 

“Fine,” Kylo bit out. He sat awkwardly in silence, watching Hux lace up his boots. 

 

“I’m Matt, by the way.” He offered.

 

“Ha,” Hux snapped. “I don’t care.” 

 

It took all of Kylo’s effort to not end him right there. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay this week, it's drawing close to Finals and all, so next chapter will probably be delayed as well but hopefully after that it'll be back to a once a week posting schedule 
> 
> Next chapter: Poe Dameron meets the second rudest droid in the galaxy


End file.
